FEB 07 2014 BY ROBERT 

Bali to Bangkok continues (Read Part 1)…

The flight takes more time than flying from L.A. to N.Y.C. I gain an hour and still arrive at 7:30 in the evening. Then, Immigration. After walking what seems to be a mile of corridors I get to the entry area that leads up to the Immigration queues. A sea of people clustered in an unorganized mass leading to the ill-defined roped off areas that begin to define that which will  become the endless zigzag lines leading to the openings that allows you to stand before the Immigration officer and get your visa on arrival and pass on to the baggage claim. Phew. Exhausted just thinking about it. I am looking at hours of wasted time only to get to the point to where I can get my bag. Then off to begin inquiring about any hope I may have of an existing flight to Phuket. Even if I am able to book something for the next day, it will still take a lot of time just to find out.

Travel Bali to Bangkok, Part 2 from Robert’s Xplorer Journal

As I pondered my dilemma while facing this sea of people. I noticed a few people slipping off to the right of everyone and seeming to find some other way. So I decided to investigate. I slid up along the right side of all these people and came to the where I had seen people disappear. What I found was a line for non-foreigners. This was for the Thai people only. Dead end. I looked back to where I had just come and to my great regret, hundreds more people had joined the line! Then I got an idea that it came as a question. The question was, “how can I cut in line and not incur the wrath of several hundred people. I stood there looking at the hundreds of faces that stood trance like inching along slowly defining what was to become a portal to Thailand. l stood there looking across all these faces and all this mixed group of race and nationalities. Every known ethnic origin clustered for one common purpose. Enter Thailand. Many even more exhausted than I. One person stood out. He was different from any of the rest. At first glance he looked as if he were transported from the sixties of America and my youth. He was easily as tall as I, though much larger in stature, fit and strong. He had long hair wild and unkempt, a long beard to match and brown hair without a tinge of gray. Large lack spikes pierced his ears. He was wearing the loose casual baggy colorful attire of a traveler. Slung across his shoulder was a long strapped bag common in India and South East Asia. On his size 14 bare feet were flip-flop sandals.

Travel Bali to Bangkok, Part 2 from Robert’s Xplorer Journal

Although decades separated us, I felt that our hearts were only moments apart. I began the slow cautious path between all the lines of people who stood between he and I. “Excuse me, excuse me,” as I slid my way between the human line of resistance to reach his side. I came up just a few degrees to his right and from behind. As I got to within ear shot and just loud enough for the others near to hear, I said, “Hey mate, there you are, I’ve been looking all over for you.” To which he replied, “Hiya. ‘Ave ye now?” As I got to where I could speak softly, I ask if he would be so kind as to pretend to know me so to save me from the horrors of what just lay behind. Hundreds and hundreds of people representing several more hours of standing in line. Time I felt I could not afford, under the stress I was in.

This is how I came to meet this most interesting Australian fellow-traveler, with whom we discovered we stood eye to eye on more things than our shared height. We spent at least three hours in line chatting and sharing stories and the time slipped past comfortably for us both, soon we were passing Immigration and trying to find our baggage. There were 26 long carousals. We checked with the Information Counter referring to our flight numbers, and discovered that his was at the opposite end from mine. We stood there for a long pause looked each other in the eye and shook hands. Both delighted to have had the pleasure of having met each other and knowing this was all we would ever have, as this was the moment where the winds of travel would take our ships to far distant ports, like sailors of old meeting at some dockside pub then setting sail on different ships.